Chapter 9 #2
He takes a doctor’s case from his trunk and motions at the car where my driver is waiting. “This yours?”
Tightening my hold on Tatiana, I nod.
“Let’s get into the back.”
He throws the key to his Lexus at one of my men with the unspoken understanding that the man will drive his car to my house.
My driver takes the wheel. Reino gets into the front to keep watch while I get into the back of the SUV, carefully holding Tatiana on my lap.
The doctor takes the seat opposite us. Cradling Tatiana in my arms, I stretch my seatbelt around both of us and secure it before giving the driver the signal to go.
While we drive, the doctor checks her vitals and does a quick preliminary examination.
When he finally sits back with the stethoscope around his neck, I wait for his verdict with my heart beating in my throat.
“As far as I can tell, she’s suffering from dehydration. The cut above her temple needs stitches, but I can do that at home. I assume you’d like to keep this quiet.”
“Of course.”
He knows how important security and discretion are in my business.
On the way home, I call Jasper, telling her what happened. I don’t want Noah to see his mother like this, so I ask her to take him to the park. I instruct the man I left in charge of the guards at the house to send a whole squadron of soldiers with them.
After sending Sav a quick message with the news, I call Kent to tell him the search is off.
He answers on the first ring. “Boss?”
“We found her.”
A beat passes. I know he blames himself for letting her escape from right under his nose.
In different circumstances, I would’ve had his head on a platter for that unforgivable error, but the blame for what happened rests squarely on my shoulders.
I’m the one at fault. My behavior sparked my wife’s reaction.
“Is she all right?” Kent asks with caution.
I clench my jaw. “I’ll know later. She’s unconscious. I’m with the doctor now.”
He sounds almost as worried as I am. “Keep me posted.”
When we get to the house, Emily is already there. She opens the front door wide and waits for us on the threshold.
I’m glad for her presence. Emily is like a second mother to me. Her trademark yachtswoman’s outfit of a striped navy top and white slacks is both familiar and comforting. As always, her gray hair is twisted in a neat bun at her nape.
Her eyes flare at the sight of an unconscious Tatiana in my arms. “What can I do?”
My command is brusque. “Get warm water and clean towels.”
The doctor pushes past her, carrying his doctor’s case in one hand.
I lead the way to the stairs while Emily scurries away to get what I need.
Inside my room, I lay Tatiana gently down on the bed.
The doctor leaves his case on the bench at the foot end and walks to the en-suite bathroom. While he scrubs his hands with soap in the basin, he calls through the open door, “We need to strip her.”
Every part of my being protests at the idea of him seeing her naked. I’d sooner poke out his eyes, but I remind myself why it’s necessary.
He must’ve seen something on my face, because he steps out of the bathroom gingerly, keeping his distance. “I can call a female colleague if you prefer.”
I clench my fingers until my knuckles crack. “You’re here now. If she needs treatment, I don’t want to delay it.”
He goes to his doctor’s case and unclips it.
I stare at her pale face, agony beating in my chest. “What do you think happened to her?”
He comes closer and bends over her to study the cut above her temple. “My guess is she knocked her head against something. Maybe it was an accident.”
My gut tightens. “A car accident?”
“It’s hard to say, but judging by the state of her clothes, it’s possible.” He taps her cheek. “Mrs. Morici, it’s time to wake up.”
I grab his arm, locking my fingers hard around his wrist. “What are you doing?”
He winces. “I need her conscious to determine if she’s suffering from head trauma.”
Releasing my fingers one by one, I let him go.
He slaps her cheek lightly again. “Mrs. Morici.”
Tatiana stirs and then whimpers.
“Open your eyes, Mrs. Morici.”
Her golden eyelashes flutter. Her eyelids lift, revealing those magnificent green pools.
Blinking, she looks around the room before focusing on my face. “Dante?”
I take her hand, my pulse thumping in my temples. “I’m here, darling.”
She frowns at the doctor. “Where am I?”
“At home.” I wipe a stray curl from her face and caress her cheek with my knuckles. “You’re safe now. The doctor is here to examine you.”
“Home?” She tightens her fingers around my hand. “Why am I not in the condo? Where’s my mom?”
The doctor and I exchange a look. He knows her family history.
He smiles at her. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Tatiana. Tatiana Teszner.”
I stiffen at the use of her maiden name.
“Do you know what day it is?” he asks.
She thinks for a moment before an anxious look comes over her features.
“Mrs. Morici, do you remember what happened to you?”
She touches her head with her free hand and sucks air through her teeth when she finds the cut.
“Easy, darling.” I pull her hand away. “You’re injured.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” the doctor asks again.
Panic flashes through her eyes as she fixes them on me. “I–I don’t know.”
“That’s all right.” The doctor’s tone is soothing. “You don’t have to remember right away. Let’s have a look at you first.”
When I try to free my hand, she clings to me. “Dante?”
“I’m here.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and rub her arm. “You’re going to be fine.”
The touch seems to soothe her. She remains still, letting me caress her, but her chest rises and falls rapidly with her breaths when I make to get up again.
Grabbing my wrist in both her hands, she digs her nails into my skin. “Don’t leave me.”
“No one is going to hurt you.” I kiss her forehead and gently extract myself from her grip to give the doctor space to work.
“No.” She starts struggling when I let her go, jackknifing into a sitting position and crawling into my lap. “Don’t leave me.”
Seeing her like this… it’s fucking killing me.
I wrap my arms around her. “Never.”
She fights harder, clinging to me while crying out over and over, “Don’t leave me.”
“Tatiana, I’ve got you.”
I hold her close and mutter words of comfort in her hair, but no matter what I say, she grows more hysterical by the second.
The doctor approaches with a hypodermic needle. “Hold her steady.”
“No,” she screams, clawing to get closer to me even though she can’t get any closer. “Don’t. Dante, please.”
Holding her in place while she fights like a wild animal and begs me not to do this to her is like flogging myself with barbed wire. It hurts me like nothing ever has when the doctor sticks that needle into her bicep.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head as she puts up a futile fight before going slack again. “I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her eyes turn hazy, and then they close, her body slumped in my arms.
“Lie her down,” the doctor says, spreading one of the bathroom towels out over the bed.
It takes superhuman willpower to lay her down on the towel. I want to hold her against my chest and never let her go.
“What the fuck happened to her?” I ask myself more than the doctor.
“I think it’s safe to say she’s been through a traumatic experience, which will explain her reaction. Can you please stand aside for a moment?”
I only manage to tear myself away from her because the logical part of my brain realizes she needs help.
Not bothering with undressing her, the doctor cuts the dress open from the top to the bottom, leaving her in a modest bra and panties while I remove her stockings and shoes.
A single string of pearls fits snugly around her neck. Matching pearl earrings, the chain with the cross that belonged to her mother, and her engagement and wedding rings are her only other jewelry. The Rolex I gave her is gone.
The doctor confirms that her vitals are stable and does a more thorough examination, checking for fractures and abdominal bruises that could indicate internal bleeding.
He straightens when he’s done. “I’ve given her a tranquilizer, so she’ll be out for a while.
Her heart rate and blood pressure are normal, and she doesn’t have a fever, but her pupils are dilated.
I’d like to run a blood test.” He continues when I’ve nodded my consent.
“I’ll give her a local anesthetic and stitch up the cut.
Her knees and palms are badly scraped, and it looks as if some gravel may be stuck behind the scabs.
I’ll have to clean the scrapes properly to ensure infection doesn’t set in.
I can hook her up to a drip with electrolytes to help with the dehydration.
I can have everything here in,” he checks his watch, “about an hour.”
“Will she be all right?”
“Physically, yes.” Pinning me with a look, he says with meaning, “But I suggest you get her to talk to someone.”
“A psychiatrist, you mean.”
“She needs trauma treatment.” He packs away his stethoscope and blood pressure gauge. “I can give you a referral.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll text you the number.”
There’s a knock on the door.
I cover Tatiana’s body with a sheet before I answer the door.
Emily enters with a big bowl of water balancing on the stack of towels in her arms. “Where do you want these?”
I motion at the bench. “Leave everything there.”
Shaking the doctor’s hand, I say, “Emily will see you out.”
As soon as they’re gone, I get a sponge and soap from the bathroom. I follow the doctor’s example, cutting through the bra in the front with a flip knife and doing the same with the elastic on the sides of the panties. Then I carefully pull the dress out from under her.
I remove the pearl necklace and earrings and leave them with the garments on the bench. I’ll send them to my forensics expert to see what he can learn. Maybe we’ll find a clue that will help to solve the mystery of Tatiana’s disappearance.
I unclasp her mother’s necklace next and let the chain slip through my fingers, dropping it on top of the ruined dress. Tatiana’s neck is covered in streaks of dirt. I don’t want the necklace to be in the way when I clean her.
Once she’s naked, I step back to take her in. She’s denied me this up to now, refusing to show me her body. I told her I wouldn’t force her. I wanted her to come to me in her own time, but the circumstances are exceptional.
Looking at her, I marvel at the sight of the soft curves I know by heart. I’ve memorized every dip and valley with my hands and my lips. I’ve imprinted every perfect line that defines her shape in my mind.
Yet there are small changes hinting at the time I’ve lost with her.
Her hips are softer, and her breasts are fuller.
Faint stretch marks run over her stomach.
Knowing that she grew our baby in there, they make her all the more precious to me, all the more beautiful.
The fact that they’re a novelty to me confirms that it’s been too long since I’ve seen her like this, spread out on my bed with nothing to hide her from me.
But I don’t take satisfaction from finally getting what I wanted, not under these conditions.
Focusing on what’s most important, which is taking care of her, I dip the sponge in the warm water and begin to wash her.
I work meticulously, starting with her shoulders and arms and working my way down her legs to her feet.
Not wanting her to be cold, I pat her dry and cover her with the clean towels as I advance.
When I’m satisfied that not a mark is left on her front, I gently turn her onto her stomach.
What in the name of Jesus?
Fuck.
Jumping to my feet, I almost knock the bowl with the water over. The sponge drops from my hand, falling somewhere on the carpet. I stare at the sight in front of me, rage of the likes I’ve never felt building like the mothers of all tsunamis inside me.
Tatiana’s back is a roadmap of scars, each crisscrossing line drawing a history of what could’ve only been excruciating pain.
Reaching out with a trembling hand, I trace the silvery, embossed scars that run from her shoulders to her waist. There are too many to count. They run into one another, on top of each other. This is why she wouldn’t undress in front of me, why she refused to let me see her naked.
The notion that she thinks she has to hide this only adds to the fury that rages inside me. The thought that someone did this to her makes my vision go from bright burning red to pitch fucking black. I swear I’ll find the son of a bitch and kill him with my bare hands.
Bending down, I press a soft kiss on her shoulder right over the healed marks. “I’ll fix this too, Tatiana. I swear that to you.” Balling my hands into fists at my sides, I bite out a vow. “I’ll make them pay if it’s the last thing I do.”